


puffy eyes, nasty reaction

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Childhood Sexual Abuse, Dissociation, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Ignored Safeword, Kinda, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Pre-Sburb/Sgrub, another installation of me feeling shitty and projecting it onto my favorite characters, typing in all lower case bc EDGY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 06:02:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14206689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: you'd almost rather strife with him, but you're cool. you’re gonna play this game. you aren’t gonna pussy out of it, and maybe you’ll be as cool as bro.





	puffy eyes, nasty reaction

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to another installation of me projecting my experiences with cocsa onto homestuck characters! 'cept this time i'm using an adult in the place of my abuser even though she was my age. whatever. dave is relateble. 
> 
> title is from "we've got your back" by los campesinos!

he asks you if you want to play a game. it’s august-hot, the a.c is broken. all of the windows in the apartment are open behind drawn blinds to keep the air in and the texas sun out. 

you are eight years old. 

it’s too hot to strife. he tells you he’s going to teach you a game for adults. a game that you can learn, even though you’re still a kid, because you’re just that cool. you sit down next to him on the futon. you’re both shirtless, but not shadesless. never shadesless. 

the futon is stained with something white and crusty. you avoid it as he gulps his soda. finally, he says, “this is a secret game. you tell anyone, they’re not gonna let you play it anymore, because it’s for adults. but you’re cool enough for it, right?” you nod. “lay down. on your back. stay still.” 

this is strange. 

he folds himself over you, twice your height and hands big enough to cover your face or throat. braces himself with hands next to your skinny shoulders. 

this feels like something out of one of his videos. the sex ones.   
and then it becomes one of the sex ones. he locks his mouth on your throat and sucks, hard, and pinches at your chest with his hands. there is something firm in his boxers, you can feel it on your calf. 

“bro, stop.”   
“stopping ain’t cool. i thought you were cool enough for this. you really wanna pussy out?” you can’t see his eyes through his shades. your neck is wet, and his hands haven’t left your chest. you shake your head.

you’re cool.   
one of his hands grabs your dick through your boxers. you start, and his hand presses your chest into the futon. if you ask him to stop you’ll be a pussy. 

his hand leaves your dick and both of them move to squeeze your ass. you know how this goes. you’ve seen his videos. you whine. try to communicate to stop without saying it. 

he takes it for wanting his attention on your dick. he mouths over it through your boxers. the blinds make everything dim and unreal. you can’t feel your body. are you here?

he’s talking again. telling you how this works.   
as if you didn’t know. you’ve seen his videos. you’ve seen the weird plastic things he leaves on the floor, and in your bedroom, and in the bathroom. 

you think you cry. he flips you over at some point. you rut against the futon, like an animal.   
he kneads your ass again, and you can feel tears on your face, but you can’t feel your face. are you really here?

something warm and wet against your butthole. you inch forward, away. he pulls you back. tells you pussying out is uncool. slides a hand under you and wraps it around your dick. you curl in on yourself. somehow you are covered in the white stuff that probably composes many of the stains on the futon, but less crusty. 

he sits back. his dick is sticking out of his boxers. he yanks you up by the arm. puts your hand on his dick. smiles at you. 

you don’t know what happens. your face is dripping with the white stuff that came out of his dick. you are still crying. 

he smiles at you, huffs through his nose. thumbs away some tears and wipes your face with tissues. tells you you were good at the game. 

asks if you want to play it again. as if you had a choice in the matter.   
(you’d almost rather strife him, but you’re cool. you’re gonna play this game. you aren’t gonna pussy out of it, and maybe you’ll be as cool as bro.)

if you cry in the shower as you scrub the crusted white stuff off, well, it’s no one’s business but your own.

**Author's Note:**

> [buy me a coffee?](ko-fi.com/A7273JQG)


End file.
